


Have a Bouncy Bouncy Christmas

by PatPrecieux



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Christmas Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 07:03:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13071639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PatPrecieux/pseuds/PatPrecieux
Summary: A cryptic text, a frantic dash, and a ridiculous situation. In short, a typical Christmas Week debacle at 221 Baker Street.





	Have a Bouncy Bouncy Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [notjustmom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/gifts), [ChrisCalledMeSweetie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChrisCalledMeSweetie/gifts), [Links](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Links/gifts).



> Sherlock has a strange case to solve, and John is the "victim" of the investigation.
> 
> To : notjustmom who brought the spirit of Christmas back into my life, ChrisCalledMeSweetie who puts a song in my heart, and Links who gives me hope for a brighter future. Have a holly jolly Christmas!

Doctor John Watson smiled weakly in apology to the venerable dowager in his examining room. Having spent the last half hour demanding a more acceptable cure for her gout than restrict the intake of rich foods and fine wines, she was less than pleased at the current interruption.

Swallowing a sigh, John retrieved his mobile from the drawer. The strains of "I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas" doubled in volume before he could shut it down. Sherlock had somehow preset the damn thing with that dubious song, and John had yet to discern how to change it.

"Are you actually going to answer that, Doctor, whilst I am sat here ignored?"

John fumbled with the demon contraption making sure it was turned off. "Certainly not Mrs. Hippo..., ah, Mrs. Hall, Mrs. Hall."

"I'm quite disappointed to find myself decidedly NOT the center of your attention. I think it best if I schedule another appointment for after the holidays. Perhaps then you'll not be distracted by aquatic mammals. When I return, I expect a full array of appropriate tests and a more intelligent approach to an illness that is clearly not my fault."

As she flounced out, John shook his head in disbelief. Who would want to be subjected to being poked and prodded when only a bit of self restraint would do the trick? And speaking of self restraint, or lack thereof, how many times did he have to tell Sherlock not to bother him at the clinic unless it was an emergency. It was NEVER an emergency, well almost never, except...

"Bollocks!" John powered the mobile up to see the text: "Trapped in the flat. Come at once! - SH"

He knew better than to ask for a response, THAT wasn't going to happen. He snatched his coat from the rack and tore out the door without a word to the clinic staff who had come to expect things like this on a regular basis.

Christmas Week, cabs were at a premium and the tube a nightmare, so John began to walk, then jog and finally run with visions of multiple disasters dancing in his head. Years of forced marches in the service stood him in good stead but didn't prevent him hooking a toe on an uneven pavement and going to his knees. He wasn't injured, but his almost new trousers would need to be binned. 

Thanking his visionary choice of a clinic near home, he was soon struggling to work the key in their reluctant lock. Did Sherlock always have to wait till Hudders was away to get into trouble?

Once inside, he bound up the stairs ramming into the door of the flat, only to be thrown back by some unseen force landing squarely on his behind. Momentarily stunned, he realized there was a loud whooshing sound from inside. His first thought was chilling, gas leak? But there was no smell. Standing up, he went back to the door, this time pushing gingerly. All he could see was what appeared to be a huge expanse of PVC tarpaulin in red, green and bright yellow.

"Sherlock, Sherlock?! Are you alright? Where are you? I can't open the door!! Sherlock!!!"

From inside came the slightly bored sounding baritone, "Of course you can't. If the door could be opened, I wouldn't require your assistance. Don't be dull, John. Go around and come up the back stairs. Should be obvious even to you. Off you go."

"You're not hurt?"

"Do I sound injured to you? I'm merely inconvenienced. A situation which you can remedy if you simply GET ON WITH IT!"

Grumbling under his breath, the doctor stomped down the stairs and did as instructed. When he came through the kitchen, he stopped in his tracks, not believing his own eyes. There was a gingerbread house, a life sized blow up gingerbread house in their sitting room. A bloody Christmas bounce house had been inflated in their flat.

***~~~***

"What the bloody hell is this then, you madman?"

"Are you going to be an idiot all afternoon, John? Clearly it's a bouncy house."

"I can see that, Sherlock. What is it doing here?"

"Taking up space", he droned with a slight titter.

"If you're working up to laughing, you'd best stop right now because on this side of things, it's not funny. God Sherlock! All I could hear was the hissing. I thought it was a damned gas leak."

"Really John? If anyone should be familiar with the sound of passing air, I would have thought it would be a Doctor."

"Again you berk, not humorous. Where's the shut off to this monstrosity?"

"Ah, there's the rub. You see, when I inflated it, I placed the entryway and the blower by the electric over here by the wall and made myself comfortable on the sofa. I didn't anticipate, rather I underestimated the degree to which this would expand."

"So what you're saying is the switch and power plug are blocked by the house."

"Well done you. Now here's what you do. Climb the inflatable stairs that are facing the kitchen and slide down the slide. You'll land safely beside me."

"And be stuck like you? What are you on about?"

"Certainly not! Once you're down here, you can climb back up the slide, and drop through the opening in the top of the house and reach the switch. Elementary."

"What's elementary is that you can haul YOUR entitled arse up the slide yourself and fix this!"

"I'm busy solving the crime. I can't be bothered with acrobatics."

"That's the limit. I'm getting the biggest sharpest knife we own and ventilating this thing right now!"

"Don't be absurd, John. This is a rental, destroying it will cost at least several hundred pounds, not to mention the black mark on the credit report."

"And I'm arsed to care about that why?"

"It's possible that the rental may be in your name. Lately it seems some establishments are reluctant to consider me a viable customer."

"Could that be because the name Sherlock Holmes has become synonymous with explosions, fires and destruction?!"

"You do have a tendency to exaggerate, John."

"Not at all, darling", he spit out, " just like it's not an exaggeration to say when I get up there, you're a dead man."

"Exactly John, it IS about the dead man. Solving his murder inside the bounce house, now you're with the program."

The blogger was already making his way up the wobbly air filled stairs, his ears and cheeks flushed bright red. When he neared the top he growled, "I'm doing this, but if you think I'm sliding to the sofa, you're a barking maniac. I'll just slip through the...Ahhhhhhhhh." In a split second, he found himself sprawled on the sofa face down.

"As I was about to say, had you been willing to listen, the bit about coming down the slide wasn't a suggestion. I was well aware that the pinnacle roof would not bear your weight for a time sufficient to allow you entry through the top opening."

"Ta, bloody, ta for your deduction, you berk."

"You should have anticipated..."

"What I anticipate is that you are now crawling up that slide and getting us the hell out of this ridiculous situation. NOW!!"

"Surely you don't expect me..."

"Now, Sherlock."

Scrambling for purchase on the slippery surface, Sherlock acknowledged his predicament. " If you insist on my doing this, you're going to have to lend a hand."

Grunting in annoyance, John reached up to push on Sherlock's silk dressing gown covered bum and made a startling discovery. "Are you naked? You're naked! Why are you naked?!"

"The corpse was found nude. Naturally I needed to recreate the circumstances. You don't expect that I would sit in the nude waiting for the house to inflate."

"I don't expect anything besides getting you up this blasted incline."

Thinking to get a better grasp, and frankly wanting to enjoy just one thing about this nonsense, John pushed the fabric out of his way and shoved the two bare cheeks.

Whether through athleticism or shock, the lanky detective shot up the slide like a bullet. As he disappeared through the hole to the interior of the house, John saw it. Firmly entrenched between those luscious mounds was a very large, very realistic dildo."

***~~~***

Before he could even gasp, the flat went deadly quiet as Sherlock had managed to disable the blower keeping the house upright. Not knowing what else to do, John sat dumbly watching the air go out of the bouncy house while he found the state of his cock was quite the opposite. Suddenly, he was roused from his stupor.

"That's it John! Of course it is! You are brilliant Doctor!"

"Glad to hear it. Don't understand it, but glad to hear it. I'm brilliant how?"

"Making me do this solved the case. Come along and get this roof off my head."

Jumping up, John made his way to the side of the now deflating gingerbread house and crawled under to relieve some of the weight of the collapsing tarpaulin.

"You alright in here?"

"Fine, fine! But it's so simple, I should have seen it earlier. The dead man was severely intoxicated and had been lured into the bouncy house with the promise of sex. Before you ask, condoms and lube not standard accessories provided with these rentals. Meanwhile, the wife, yes I know, hardly challenging but there it is, the wife waited until he passed out then disconnected the blower. When the house collapsed, the husband was still breathing and suffocated when the material covered his face and blocked his airway. After he was dead, the house was inflated again making it appear like natural causes. Barely a five, not worth the cost of renting this."

"Ah, ok."

"Hardly your usual ringing endorsement, John. Something amiss?"

"Honestly, I was treated to a spectacular view from below when you climbed the slide. Anything you want to share?"

Sherlock, blushed. "I was surprised to learn that these companies have a wide array of items for sale that are also inflatable. Figures, foliage, pool furniture, the possibilities are endless."

"You bought an inflatable dildo from a bouncy house company?!"

"What? No! But the case put me in the mood. Amazing the things that can be successfully ordered on line."

"Show me."

"John, is this really the time or place?"

"Show me, naughty boy."

Torn between aroused and embarrassed, Sherlock bent over revealing his purchase.

"Where's the bulb to pump this up?", he whispered while caressing the long white thighs under his hands.

Sherlock looked almost shy. "This one pumps with pressure on the base. It only inflates when pushed. I found it admirable at prostate stimulation when sitting on an appropriate semi soft surface."

"That's what you were doing on the sofa instead of paying attention to the giant door stop opening up in our flat, wasn't it?"

"Might have gotten a bit distracted, yes."

Without a word, the ex-soldier turned his back and crawled toward the exit.

"John where are you going? Don't be mad, I meant it as a gift from Father Christmas for you. Please, John."

In a flash, Captain Watson was back with a leer on his face and a twinkle in his eye. "Not leaving, looking forward to coming actually. Just had to see to something."

It was then that Sherlock realized the hum of the air blower was back and the gingerbread house was once again rising to the occasion.

"What's going on? I thought you were cross about this."

Rolling like a frisky hedgehog across the soft floor of the house to pull Sherlock into his arms, he purred, "You're not going to let this go without thoroughly investigating are you, love? After all, how are we to confirm your conclusion if we don't recreate the scenario. Seems you were planning on that, or did this particular house actually come equipped with lube? Attention to details was it?"

"Yes, Captain. I suppose you have a point. Can't report back to Garfield at the Yard without all the facts. How shall we proceed?"

"Well I was thinking we could do a controlled experiment to see just how inflatable this inflatable is. It's for science."

Sherlock would later deny the girly squeak that escaped his lips the next second as John began his fact finding mission.

***~~~***

Sometime later, a light snow began to fall in London, the fairy lights from inside 221B illuminating the windows. Those walking down Baker Street would deny anything strange had been afoot. It was a wise decision for all. For who was to be believed when they would relate that they had seen a large gingerbread house rocking back and forth, up and down in the confines of the second story flat. And less believable still, would be those who avowed that they heard the mild mannered and gentlemanly Doctor Watson singing so loudly it could be heard on the pavement, echoing down the street.

No, not one soul would admit to having heard John Hamish Watson singing with enthusiastic joy, "Have a bouncy bouncy Christmas, and in case you didn't hear - Oh by golly have a bouncy bouncy Christmas this year!!

**Author's Note:**

> May each of you have wonderful Holidays and a healthy happy New Year. And remember to always keep a bounce in your step!


End file.
